Mr Dooleys Philosophy | Page 5

I live comfortably an' die a markess! Th' divvle I do!
"That's what I was goin' to say," Mr. Hennessy remarked. 'Ye wudden't
live annywhere but here."
"No," said Mr. Dooley, "I wudden't. I'd rather be Dooley iv Chicago
than th' Earl iv Peltvule. It must be that I'm iv th' fightin' kind."

SERVANT GIRL PROBLEM
Whin Congress gets through expellin' mimbers that believes so much in
mathrimony that they carry it into ivry relation iv life an' opens th' dure
iv Chiny so that an American can go in there as free as a Chinnyman
can come into this refuge iv th' opprissed iv th' wurruld, I hope'twill
turn its attintion to th' gr-reat question now confrontin' th' nation-- th'
question iv what we shall do with our hired help. What shall we do
with thim?
"We haven't anny," said Mr. Hennessy.
"No," said Mr. Dooley. "Ar-rchey r-road has no servant girl problem.
Th' rule is ivry woman her own cook an' ivry man his own futman, an'
be th' same token we have no poly-gamy problem an' no open dure
problem an' no Ph'lippeen problem. Th' on'y problem in Ar-rchey

r-road is how manny times does round steak go into twelve at wan
dollar-an-a-half a day. But east iv th' r-red bridge, Hinnissy, wan iv th'
most cryin' issues iv th' hour is: What shall we do with our hired help?
An' if Congress don't take hold iv it we ar-re a rooned people."
"'Tis an ol' problem an' I've seen it arise an' shake its gory head ivry
few years whiniver th' Swede popylation got wurruk an' begun bein'
marrid, thus rayjoocin' th' visible supply iv help. But it seems 'tis
deeper thin that. I see be letters in th' pa-apers that servants is insolent,
an' that they won't go to wurruk onless they like th' looks iv their
employers, an' that they rayfuse to live in th' counthry. Why anny
servant shud rayfuse to live in th' counthry is more thin I can see. Ye'd
think that this disreputable class'd give annything to lave th' crowded
tinimints iv a large city where they have frinds be th' hundherds an'
know th' polisman on th' bate an' can go out to hateful dances an'
moonlight picnics--ye'd think these unforchnate slaves'd be delighted to
live in Mulligan's subdivision, amid th' threes an' flowers an' bur-rds.
Gettin' up at four o'clock in th' mornin' th' singin' iv th' full-throated
alarm clock is answered be an invisible choir iv songsters, as
Shakespere says, an' ye see th' sun rise over th' hills as ye go out to
carry in a ton iv coal. All day long ye meet no wan as ye thrip over th'
coal-scuttle, happy in ye'er tile an' ye'er heart is enlivened be th' thought
that th' childher in th' front iv th' house ar- re growin' sthrong on th'
fr-resh counthry air. Besides they'se always cookin' to do. At night ye
can set be th' fire an' improve ye'er mind be r-readin' half th' love story
in th' part iv th' pa-aper that th' cheese come home in, an' whin ye're
through with that, all ye have to do is to climb a ladder to th' roof an'
fall through th' skylight an' ye're in bed."
[Illustration]
"But wud ye believe it, Hinnissy, manny iv these misguided women
rayfuse f'r to take a job that aint in a city. They prefer th' bustle an' roar
iv th' busy marts iv thrade, th' sthreet car, th' saloon on three corners an'
th' church on wan, th' pa-apers ivry mornin' with pitchers iv th' s'ciety
fav'rite that's just thrown up a good job at Armours to elope with th'
well-known club man who used to be yard- masther iv th' three B's, G,

L, & N., th' shy peek into th' dhry-goods store, an' other base luxuries,
to a free an' healthy life in th' counthry between iliven P.M. an' four
A.M. Wensdahs an' Sundahs. 'Tis worse thin that, Hinnissy, f'r whin
they ar-re in th' city they seem to dislike their wurruk an' manny iv thim
ar-re givin' up splindid jobs with good large families where they have
no chanst to spind their salaries, if they dhraw thim, an' takin' places in
shops, an' gettin' marrid an' adoptin' other devices that will give thim th'
chanst f'r to wear out their good clothes. 'Tis a horrible situation. Riley
th' conthractor dhropped in here th' other day in his horse an' buggy on
his way to the dhrainage canal an' he was all wurruked up over th'
question. 'Why,' he says, ''tis scand'lous th' way servants act,' he says.
'Mrs. Riley has hystrics,' he says. 'An' ivry two or three nights whin I
come home,' he says, 'I have